


I Am Jack's Infinity

by honeybee



Category: Fight Club (1999)
Genre: Aftermath, Blood, Coda, Gen, Hurt, Insanity, Mental Institutions, Mind Games, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-17
Updated: 2012-08-17
Packaged: 2017-11-12 07:49:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/488448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeybee/pseuds/honeybee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I Am Jack's Infinity and Tyler is laughing at me. A coda (with some language and minor violence).</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Am Jack's Infinity

**Author's Note:**

> An old fic, written originally in 2006. I've tweaked it a bit since then, and this is its first reposting since its original publication on fanfiction.net way back in the day. A coda to the film, of sorts.

I'm in hell. Most people call it the Psychiatric Ward of Manchester State Penitentiary.

I have in a small room, all to myself. Stone walls on all three sides, and bars on the fourth. My own little cage. 

Tyler doesn't come into my cage, or into the dining area, or outside when I get my daily fifteen minutes. He doesn't come into the showers or into the visiting area once every month when Marla Singer comes to see me.

But Tyler is not dead. I did not kill him. He's only dead to the outside world.

He only exists in my head.

Has anything really changed?

He comes when I go to sleep. When I lay down on the squeaky metal spring mattress on my small cot in the corner of my cage, Tyler comes. I don't like to sleep, but it happens anyway. Every night I visit Tyler. Or he visits me.

When my eyes crack open, I quickly shut them again. Harsh light, brilliant white, it makes its way through my closed eyelids, burning my sensitive pupils, not used to the brightness, wanting the dark. Wanting my cage.

I open them again. I'm surrounded by white, like a piece of paper. I'm lying on the ground, or is it the ceiling, or the walls? Here, everything blends together into nothing, into oblivion, into infinity. 

Tyler stands in front of me.

But it's really me that standing in front of me. How's that for a mindfuck? Because Tyler doesn't exist, everyone says. The doctors tell me, Marla tells me. Even I tell me.

But he's standing right in front of me.

Tyler smiles.

"We are the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world." He laughs. His boot comes down on my stomach. Instinctively, my body curls in on itself as I grunt in pain. I thought you weren't supposed to get hurt in your dreams?

I Am Jack's Smirking Revenge.

"Why are you doing this?"

The first rule of Project Mayhem is you do not ask questions.

"I'm not," Tyler says calmly. He stares at me, unblinking. "You are. We are."

I Am Jack's Broken Heart.

"You're not real," I say, attempting to climb to my knees. "You're not fucking real."

The first rule of fight club is you don't talk about fight club.

"What is real?" Tyler asks.

The question startles me. "Real?" I look down at myself, fumbling. "Real is me, real - real is this -" I grasp the front of my shirt.

"What about this?" Tyler kicks me in the head and my neck snaps back. My body follows, rolling down to the ground again. Blood trickles from my nose into my mouth, down my throat. "Was that real?"

I Am Jack's Cold Sweat.

"You're - you're just imaginary," I press on weakly.

"Am I?" Tyler's voice rings in my ears and echoes through the nothingness. He has a cigarette in his hands. He lights it with a match. "Or is it you?"

"Me?"

Sixth rule - no shirts, no shoes.

Tyler crouches down to look at me at eye level. "You are Tyler Durden. I am Tyler Durden. We are Tyler Durden."

After fight club, everything else in your life gets the volume turned down.

I roll away, eyes closed, pressing a hand to my forehead. I want my cage. I'm going insane.

Tyler snorts. "You could say that." I hadn't spoken aloud, had I?

Raymond K. Hessel sits on his knees in front of me as I hold an unloaded gun to the back of his head.

Marla Singer cries out in sick pleasure as I push harder, harder.

I cry into Bob's bitch tits.

His name is Robert Paulson.

I Am Jack's Infinity and Tyler is laughing at me.


End file.
